


Bound and Fettered In Iron Chains

by D20Owlbear



Series: 12 Days of Blasphemy [11]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale all gussied up but knelt down on the floor in chains?, Book canon compliant, Dom/sub Undertones, Emperor Crowley very much desires disgraced King Aziraphale, In Flames, M/M, Rated E for Egregiously sexy consent and power-play, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, absolutely does it for Crowley, and lbr having Crowley shirtless and covered in jewelry?, and then they fuck about it, at the end they talk about it briefly and cuddle about it, definitely does it for Aziraphale, honestly this isn't even cnc, no beta we die like the Bentley, surprisingly sexy negotiations ngl, they negotiate consent for like 1k words, they still like the aesthetic tho, very 'tilts chin up with a sword' homoerotica, yes this is my answer to not having the bastille scene in book canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:22:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28424682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D20Owlbear/pseuds/D20Owlbear
Summary: 5/12 Days of Blasphemy 2020“To bind their kings with chains, and their nobles with fetters of iron;” (Psalms 149:8)Aziraphale and Crowley like to, on occasion, spice things up in the bedroom. This includes, but is not limited to, pretending to be rulers of opposing kingdoms, one at the mercy of the other, and being introduced to their bed...
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: 12 Days of Blasphemy [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570819
Comments: 14
Kudos: 79
Collections: 12 Days of Blasphemy 2020, Top Crowley Library





	Bound and Fettered In Iron Chains

**Author's Note:**

> If you know me and you spot a typo, please let me know in a DM!

"Sso…" The door behind Aziraphale opened and the light from the hallway cast perfectly around Aziraphale's position, forced to kneel on the floor and bound hand and foot with iron chains. The voice of the man behind him was soft and susurrus but made his breath catch, this is what he'd been waiting for.

"Your own people didn't want you, hm?" The voice continued and the shadow cast by the man overtook Aziraphale's form, encompassing him in the dark once more even as the light outside the door surrounded him. At least he could see where he'd been taken, now.

"No," Aziraphale said proudly, forcing his back to straighten and his chin to rise, "It seems they do not." He may have been sent away, bartered more like, handed off to some foreign barbarian like chattel to pay their way to new lands or trade routes or whatever it was, but he was proud. Aziraphale had been a leader and he had done his job well and fairly, too much so for some of those around him and, unfortunately, he'd trusted some who weren't trustworthy after all.

"Lucky for you then, that I have use for you. " The man's low sotto voce tone was nearly enough to lure Aziraphale into a sense of security, but he breathed in deeply and exhaled in a sigh. No, he couldn't let this man see how easily he was gotten to, he didn't have anything left but his pride, and by God he was going to keep that at least.

"No? You don't think so?" His footsteps were nearly silent against the wood floor Aziraphale was forced to kneel on, so he was barefoot most likely. Only inches away from the nearest cushion on the ground, great, big things clearly meant for lounging in, dotted with a few low tables for food and drink, most likely. These weren't things that would help Aziraphale escape at all, of course, but… it was something.

"Well then," The man murmured and finally stepped around Aziraphale and crouched in front of him with an easy-going smile and eyes far too sharp and clever to trust no matter how attractive Aziraphale thought him. "You don't even want to barter for your freedom, hm? Your lot seem fond of barter, you know."

"Yes, I am well aware!" Aziraphale snapped, huffing and looking away to the side, annoyed at himself for giving into the man's machinations and prodding so quickly. _Clearly,_ he was here to rile Aziraphale about his circumstances. "Who are you, in any case?"

The man before him laughed and Aziraphale let himself look the man over briefly, eyes resting on the way his loose trousers hung low on his hips and tied at his calves, and how the jewelry he wore was clearly expensive but not gaudily so. A man of wealth and taste and clearly someone who wielded a certain amount of power to be visiting him here. His dusky skin nearly glowed in the light from the doorway and the sharp edges of his ribs and shoulders were emphasized with cutting shadows.

"You can call me Crowley," the man replied, voice still filled with his bemusement at the question, and Aziraphale inhaled sharply. Oh, good lord he was fucked wasn't he? Emperor Crowley's eyes sharpened at Aziraphale's clear recognition of his name, and he leaned in until their noses nearly touched. "So, did you _not_ want to barter? I'd be plenty happy to just throw you out to the desert, let the wilderness make of you what it will. There's no point in killing a disgraced king."

"Yes, alright." Aziraphale sighed at that and slumped a little in his shoulders, his eyes falling shut. "I'll bargain with you." Yes, his pride, yes he knew, but what was a bruise on it when it would keep him alive? The worst that would come out of this is being let go, it seemed. Left to his demise, surely in the desert wastes, but he was probably resourceful enough to figure something out. But what did he have to bargain with? What could he possibly bring to the table when he wore what wealth he had on his back and had no more station with which to command others?

"Very good," Crowley hummed happily and reached out and tapped Aziraphale's cheek twice. "Well, you've got a few options… The first one is the least fun, likely for both of us. I take your coat, have it torn apart for what little gold is embroidered into it, and cast you into the desert. To be perfectly honest, you'll likely die, you don't seem like you've lived out in the wild a day in your life, not even for hunting parties."

"And my other options?" Aziraphale sputtered, but he couldn't say otherwise, he'd much rather stay behind and read and feast and train in the yard with his soldiers than go out and forage or hunt or, lord forbid, sleep in flimsy, cold tents in the woods. Crowley only smirked at him and quirked an eyebrow.

"You stay here." Crowley shrugged, his eyes darted down to his hands as he inspected his nails in obvious, performative nonchalance, as if he didn't know the very thought of stay _here_ in his kingdom as a prisoner rankles against everything Azirpahale was. That was far more than a bruise on his pride!

"I'll have you know I'll do no such thing! I won't be kept in chains just to die in a prison in the end!" Aziraphale snarled and shifted up on his knees as best he could to affect what height he had over Crowley, though his hands manacled to his ankles didn't give him much leeway to be imposing.

Crowley looked up at Aziraphale and blinked slowly, like cats did when they were unimpressed, and scoffed at him, "Of course you won't. I wouldn't throw away a resource like that if I can help it, I didn't take the throne here on good looks alone. I want you as my general, an Imperator. You've been victorious in tactics aplenty with your kingdom, give me your allegiance instead and I'll shower you in wealth and status and jewels aplenty. Win my battles for me and lead my armies and I will give you my ear. Or…" Crowley trailed off suggestively.

Aziraphale grit his teeth, his first reaction was to pronounce his loyalties to be elsewhere, but… were they? His loyalty had left him abandoned in the dust and in chains, and as much as he had fought against Emperor Crowley, he was a worthy opponent and clearly valued his people as best he was able to. His empire was thriving, and Aziraphale had wondered often what it would be like if (when, perhaps) his country was added to it.

"Or?" He asked instead. It was important to know all his options, only then could he make his decision.

" _Or_ I keep you," Crowley intoned lowly, the way his visage grew hungry and his eyes turned on Aziraphale making him feel like the rabbit before the hawk. It was clear that ' _I'll keep you'_ was much different from ' _You stay here'_. The difference made Aziraphale shudder and his mouth turn dry and all the thoughts of his rumored harm came to mind.

"You'll keep me?" Aziraphale asked after a moment to collect himself. Steady old boy, it's probably not what he meant, rumors are only rumors after all… no matter how pretty he is.

Crowley nodded, eyes never leaving Aziraphale's face except to rake down the front of him with a gaze hot like forge-red iron, making his intentions clear. "Your choice, of course. You could do both, even, if you wished, I certainly would not stop you nor would I complain!" He barked a sudden, loud laugh, and grinned unfairly charmingly.

"If you wished it, I'd give you all the wealth and status you liked, I'd shower you with silks and jewels, I would tear down the heavens for you and have them set into rings to adorn your hands. And I would allow you my ear, my confidences, if you shared my bed." Crowley's voice was husky and sonorous, and the way he looked at Aziraphale made him sway with a sudden lack of blood filling his head.

"Y– you would?" Aziraphale croaked, his mouth and throat felt dry as the desert some miles away, the rest of him felt as hot as if he baked in the sun of it. "I don't– I mean, that's quite the offer, but I cannot–"

"You could," Crowley cut in sharply, his hand gripped Aziraphale's chin and pulled him forward until he was so close he could feel every breath from Crowley's lungs, and his lips brushed against Aziraphale's own with every word he spoke. "You could if you _wanted_ to. If you say know, this will be the only time I offer it, if you deny me you will not be hassled or harried, those I keep are only ever willing, no matter what you may have heard of me…"

Aziraphale's breath came sharp and quick and he could only just hold himself back from leaning in and taking the lips of the man in front of him, teasing him with his chaste touch. He ripped his eyes away from Crowley's lips and looked up into his eyes, quickly he realized his folly as he drowned in the depths of them, bright amber honestly, naked and truthful in ways Aziraphale hadn't realized he'd never seen in his life before. Had he _always_ been surrounded by those who lied to him, kept things from him, pretended to be ignorant of things they weren't to his face?

Yes, it must be so.

"Yes," Aziraphale whispered hoarsely.

"Yes, _what_ ," Crowley demanded, his eyes alight with an inner fire that made them look like pools of molten gold in crucibles after the dore slag had been skimmed from it and discarded, leaving only pure, churning ore.

"Yes, yes, take me. Keep me, I will stay and be kept," Aziraphale panted, if he'd had any pride left surely it was hiding its face in shame with how easily he had given into Crowley's sweet promises, how well he'd been bought with honeyed words and swayed by beautiful eyes. He'd only just barely finished his sentence when Crowley's mouth was on his, held firmly in place by Crowley's hand on his jaw, and kissed within an inch of his life. The noises that escaped him were weak and shameful, but did he care anymore? _No,_ Aziraphale thought dimly, _he did not care one whit, as long as Crowley kept doing_ that _with his tongue._

Aziraphale moaned and let his mouth fall open wider, his tongue twining with Crowley's and he hummed deep in his chest with the satisfaction of pulling a whine from Crowley. The man scrambled for a grip in Aziraphale's fine coat, which was only somewhat worse for wear having been locked up in it, but Crowley grabbed fistfuls of it at his shoulders to pull him in impossibly closer. The kiss broke and neither dared to move away, sharing breath from their lungs, hot with the desire that ran its course through their bodies. A single thread of saliva broke between them and Aziraphale moaned helplessly at the sensation of it on his lips.

"We should– _fuck_ , _Aziraphale–_ we should get you out of those chains," Crowley said, voice ragged from their kiss, raw and rumbling in ways that really did it for Aziraphale.

He licked his lips and swallowed, looked Crowley in the eye, and whispered hoarsely, choked with lust, "If you like…" Crowley hissed and cursed under his breath, forehead falling to Aziraphale's shoulder and then he quickly got his lips on what skin was available above his collar, licking and sucking rolling moans from Aziraphale's throat.

"I see your game," Crowley chuckled weakly, "You'll be the death of me, saying things like that."

"A little one, mayhaps," Aziraphale shot back without thinking and then turned red from his cheeks to his chest at his own gall.

Crowley only laughed, a little louder this time but still rough from their kissing, but stood anyway. Aziraphale was eye level with the apex of Crowley's legs and he licked his lips again to wet them at the clear evidence of Crowley's desire. His eyes trailed up Crowley's shirtless form, catching on the way the light from the hallway put him into sharp relief from the rest of the dark room, framing his chest and arms perfectly. An iron key spun around one of his fingers (was nearly dropped, actually, and it took everything in Aziraphale to stay in character and not laugh at his husband's attempts to show off, as if Aziraphale loved him for being _impressive_ ).

"I think," Crowley muttered as he shifted behind Aziraphale on those same, silent, bare feet as before, already working to get him free, "We can save that for another time. But I want my first time bringing you to fruition to be with you on my cock, looking me in the eyes, and knowing you have stayed and been kept. And are treasured by your Emperor." Aziraphale's breath caught in his throat and tears sprung to fill his eyes but he quickly blinked them away. Was that all it took for him to fall into a mess? A pretty man with pretty words? Perhaps so…

Aziraphale was pulled up by his arms with a surprising strength from Crowley, and was herded over to the pile of pillows only a foot before where he had knelt for so long. His knees wobbled and he was grateful for Crowley's sturdy support, up to the point he'd let go of him and pushed him to the pile of downy softness onto his back. Aziraphale yelped and managed only a second of a heated glare before Crowley was upon him, legs on either side of Aziraphale's waist, his hands cradling Aziraphale's face.

Aziraphale's hands immediately flew to Crowley's sides, and the feel of Crowley's soft skin underneath his hands made him groan and roll his hips up to grind against Crowley's. The gasp that opened Crowley's mouth and parted his lips was too tantalizing to bear, so Aziraphale didn't bother to try, he leaned up and pressed his feet against the floor to steady himself, until their lips met for another kiss. Chaste only at first it devolved very quickly into little more than breathing into each other's mouths, overcome with desire.

" _Shit,_ " Crowley hissed, "Bloody fuck, I sure hope these are copies, Aziraphale because I'm going to tear them off you." Aziraphale moaned into Crowley's mouth at the feel of claws growing on Crowley's fingers and then moaned again at the heady thrill of Crowley ripping apart his shirt, right down the middle, until his chest and stomach were bare. Immediately Crowley's hands were back to normal and his short, blunt fingernails scraped over Aziraphale's sides as he bit and sucked marks into Aziraphale's chest.

Aziraphale, in retaliation, pushed his hands underneath the waistline of Crowley's trousers and kneaded his fingers over Crowley's arse, palming the subtle curve of it and moving Crowley's hips to frot clothed against Aziraphale. The moans and catches of breath and stuttering of hips made Aziraphale feel powerful and like himself again, but swiftly his own desire overcame him and he needed more.

"My dear," Aziraphale gasped at a particularly devilish movement of Crowley's tongue over his nipple, "My dear, _please_. You'd said–" Crowley surged forward and cut Aziraphale's pleas short with a searing kiss before drawing away and off of Aziraphale, settling by his feet instead.

"I don't renege on my promises, angel," Crowley said in barely more than a growl. With two sharp tugs Aziraphale's boots came off, all the laces loosening at once, and then another removed his trousers and pants with a skill Aziraphale was intimately sure Crowley didn't have outside of too-aroused-to-be-anxious. Crowley crowded back in, this time between Aziraphale's legs, and hitched one of Azirpahale's knees over his shoulder, kissing the bend of it. Aziraphale might have teased him for the tenderness if it weren't for slick fingers stroking between his arse at the ring of muscle. Forcing himself to relax a little, Aziraphale groaned as Crowley made quick work of pressing a finger inside and curling it just so to tease at the bundle of nerves to play Aziraphale like a fiddle.

He had no desire to fight at all and, instead, Aziraphale laid back clutching at the pillows and blankets piled underneath him to let Crowley do all the work he liked. His cock twitched and leaked with every brush against his prostate and every time Crowley pressed another finger into him, opening him up with a swift expertise that left him breathless at the pleasant burn of being stretched out.

"Ready?" Crowley asked breathlessly, and oh he looked a wonder, Aziraphale would compose verse about his beauty if he had the thought to do it, but instead he just nodded and whispered a ragged _please_ and watched as Crowley had to take himself in hand (just when had that wily devil gotten those trousers of?!) and rest his forehead on Aziraphale's knee for a moment to breathe. Stroking himself with a slick hand, Crowley dug his fingers into the plushness of Aziraphale's thigh, and lifted him up by the leg until they were perfectly positioned together.

Aziraphale threw back his head with a desperate, reedy whine as Crowley pressed into him and into him and kept going, until his hips met flush with Aziraphale's arse and Crowley moaned in reply. With a cheeky smirk, Aziraphale pushed down on Crowley's shoulder with his leg and pressed himself up and then fucked down on Crowley's cock, moaning wantonly and hoping very much that Crowley would take up the challenge.

"Oh no you don't," Crowley growled, his hands left Aziraphale's thighs only to grip firmly enough to leave bruises to Aziraphale's hips and held him in place to fuck into him with abandon. The slick sounds of skin sliding across skin and the feeling of Crowley's cock catching on his rim only to thrust back into him loudly made Aziraphale lose all thought of propriety, the sounds he made were loud and uninhibited, overcome with the pleasure of being thoroughly seen to by Crowley and he was floating in it pleasantly.

Vaguely he knew he was babbling, promising devotion and love to Crowley if only he'd make him cum and how he'd made the correct choice, which only seemed to spur Crowley on to move faster and harder. Aziraphale was already half in love with the bruises he was sure to have and how sore his thighs would be in the morning from how they quivered in the face of binding pleasure.

And then Crowley wrapped his fingers around Aziraphale's cock and he was shoved suddenly and firmly back into the overwhelming ecstasy, and cognizant once more of Crowley's voice promising him the same. Love and devotion, affection and riches, the whole of the heavens to allow Crowley to spill inside him. Crowley spoke of keeping him and all the pleasures he could have in Crowley's bed, the finest of foods and richest of wines, if he would cum for Crowley and show him his face in ecstasy.

Crowley's rough voice sounded like a prayer, chanting and genuine, and that —as well as Crowley's hand wrapped tight and firm around his cock, every thrust into Aziraphale moving him so he'd thrust into Crowley's hand slick again and hot with friction— pushed Aziraphale over the edge. He cried out and spilled over Crowley's hand and his own stomach, even on his chest, making a mess of himself. As his body clenched in pleasure Crowley's own rhythm stuttered and he fucked into Aziraphale only a few more times before he threw his head back and shouted Aziraphale's name, filling him with his seed.

Breathing heavily, Crowley let Aziraphale's leg fall to his hip from his shoulder and carefully leaned up to kiss him sweetly on the lips without pulling out quite yet.

"Good, angel?" He asked softly, running his clean hand through the hair that had soaked with sweat and clung to Aziraphale's forehead, pushing it back and out of his eyes with a tenderness that brought tears to Aziraphale's eyes even as his heart swelled with love like a sunrise over the ocean, vast and bright.

"Yes, my love, my most belovéd," Aziraphale murmured, and pulled Crowley down by the shoulders to cuddle his husband. "Exactly what I wanted, thank you." Crowley grumbled and cleaned them up with a bit of magic and a flick of his fingers and hid his face in the crook of Airaphale's neck.

"Next time, if you like," Crowley mumbled, "I think I'd like to try it reversed, 'n seduce _you_ into keeping me."

Aziraphale chuckled, more than happy to play these games with the light of his heart, "Of course, my dear, anything you like."

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me in a couple of places!
> 
> Twitter: <https://twitter.com/Great_Ass_aFire>  
> Tumblr: <https://d20owlbear.tumblr.com/>


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